


To Be By His Side: Wedded and King

by starticker



Series: The Prince and the Red Knight [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Marriage to the Victor, Wedding Night, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 10:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9544322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starticker/pseuds/starticker
Summary: In the aftermath of Keith's victory, Shiro and Keith have their wedding (and wedding night.) Direct sequel/epilogue to To Be By His Side.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It took me way too long to post this, but here it is: the wedding and wedding night from the previous story. This is (probably) the last story I'll write for this universe, since I have other ideas to tend to in the wake of season 2. I hope you enjoy it!

Although the wedding had initially been set for the night after the Games' end, Keith's victory—and the accusations of favoritism that followed once his identity inevitably came to light—complicated things immensely. The wedding was postponed, and for the week immediately following the Games, Shiro's council spent the majority of their time trying to either convince Shiro to declare Sir Lance the winner of the final match _or_ convince Keith to withdraw from consideration for the good of foreign relations. When neither of them agreed to do so, they all reached a reluctant compromise: postponing the wedding for two additional weeks, so that at least the leaders of foreign nations could make the trip to attend if they wished. Since the Games had already been completed, the council concluded in defeat, it wouldn't hurt to delay the wedding and coronation only a little longer.

Shiro agreed, Keith agreed, and Shiro spent most of the first week dealing with Keith's return while also juggling the various requirements on his time now that a wedding and a coronation were on the horizon. Not surprisingly, once the council accepted that they'd soon be addressing Keith as the Wed-King of Shirogane, they threw their efforts into planning a wedding far more elaborate (and expensive) than they'd initially planned. Shiro suspected it was an attempt to distract attendees from Keith's checkered past and deflect the backlash of one of Shirogane's own people marrying into the throne, and he decided not to say a word about it. If this was what the council had to do in order to be at peace with Keith winning the Games, Shiro didn't mind if he had to spend valuable time deciding between two nearly identical shades of white for the tablecloths at their wedding, or designing seating arrangements to offend the fewest number of people.

Somewhere between choosing flower arrangements (white roses and lilies, his mother and father's favorites respectively) and negotiating preliminary trade agreements with the leaders in residence, Shiro forgot to be mad about Keith's deception. One day the anger was there, and the next it had disappeared; if he was being honest, he suspected it had been fading a little more each day, replaced by the ever-growing and expected giddiness of being betrothed to the man he loved.

Shiro didn't question it, but he did make time to tell Keith. Between Keith's own duties as the future Wed-King and the tasks he had left unfinished when he deserted the guard, Shiro hadn't seen much of him since the Games officially ended; this, Shiro was sure, was probably on purpose. Excuses aside, Keith must have known Shiro needed space.

And sure enough, the minute Shiro decided to look for him, Keith was there.

He didn't look very different from the Keith Shiro had known before the Games, with one major exception: now that Keith was no longer Shiro's bodyguard, bound by duty and propriety, he met his eyes without hesitation. There was a wealth of love and understanding within their depths, and Shiro knew he didn't have to explain his change of feeling on the matter; Keith already knew.

From that point on, they spent their spare time learning how to kiss one another properly beyond just the barest touch of lips. This was largely Keith's idea, not Shiro's; as soon as they were once again by each other's side more often than not, Keith had explained with red cheeks that he hadn't done much kissing and that the inexperience was embarrassing to him, and then he proceeded to use every opportunity to drag Shiro off to a private room or currently empty hallway or slightly darkened corner. Shiro privately thought that Keith was only telling _half_ the truth; in addition to "needing the experience," he seemed to get some thrill from sneaking around and conducting an affair just barely out of sight, and for that Shiro blamed the Red Knight. You couldn't maintain a secret identity for long without developing some quirks, he figured.

Or possibly Keith had always wanted something like that. Shiro wasn't sure, but whatever the reason, if it meant Keith pinning him to the wall with his body, his hands cupping Shiro's jawline and his thigh sliding between his legs, Shiro didn't much care. It hadn't taken Keith more than a day or two to realize that Shiro liked letting someone else take the lead, but gently, and it showed in the way Keith moved, the way he paused despite his impatience to thumb Shiro's mouth open with a soft touch before kissing him. Shiro returned such kisses happily, and although he might have been biased, he thought he'd never had better.

Of course, the locations and timing could've been improved. As much as Shiro appreciated Keith's enthusiasm, the wall behind the long, wide curtain of a deserted hallway in the middle of the day was not his preferred setting for a liaison. This, of course, didn't actually stop either of them, and they kissed each other with all the passion of a couple who'd been reunited after a long separation as soon as they were close enough.

When Shiro felt Keith began to get hard against his thigh, he admitted that they might be going a little far for midday in a hallway. He broke their kiss, but didn't pull away any further than it took to breathe.

"We're in a hallway, and I have work," Shiro said, his voice falling far short of protesting while his hands moved along Keith's back, still eagerly seeking the warmth of his skin. He tried again, for himself as well as Keith. " _You_ have work."

Keith made a sound of agreement, and then his lips found the soft skin where Shiro's jaw met his neck. He bit down and sucked hard, and Shiro made a strangled sound that turned into an embarrassing moan. He forgot what he was saying right up until a delicate cough sounded from somewhere nearby, pulling Shiro's focus from where he had been rocking Keith slowly back and forth against his own body.

Well. That was embarrassing; despite the urge to just wrap the curtain around them, Shiro reluctantly pushed Keith a few inches away to peek into the hallway beyond. His princely and dignified response was to immediately choke on nothing when he saw that the source of the sound was none other than Princess Allura, who was looking pointedly out the window beside them. Her hands were folded demurely in front of her soft pink gown, and she looked like the picture of regal beauty with her pale curls and her crown catching the light again and again, making it sparkle with color.

She was also shaking with silent laughter, and clearly about to lose the battle to keep it silent.

"Princess Allura," he said, voice coming out a croak. 

Keith tensed under his hands, and then slid furtively to the side, further behind the curtain and face first against the wall.

"I'll just…need a minute," Keith said in a whisper, his face red and his hips pressed tellingly against cold stone. Shiro, who was in a much less compromising state, nodded quickly before stepping into the open hallway, hoping his face was composed despite the throb of a bruise on his neck and the way his lips felt hot and sore.

"Princess Allura," he said politely, while Allura visibly tried to stifle her amusement.

"Prince Shiro," she replied, her voice convincingly formal. Her smile gave her away, as did her quick glance at the curtain that Shiro was steadfastly ignoring. "I'm here to answer your letter."

She leaned towards him, close enough that she could have whispered in his ear. She didn't.

"The Red Knight is Keith," she said, louder than necessary as she pulled a folded piece of paper from her gown and slid it into his hand. "And thank you for the gifts, although I think I'm the one who should be giving you a wedding present."

Shiro didn't understand until he looked at the letter in his hand, the same letter he'd sent at the beginning of the Games. He sighed and shook his head, feeling unaccountably amused.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me that _your_ champion was _my_ bodyguard."

Princess Allura smiled. 

"He was never my champion, Shiro. He was always yours." Her eyes drifted towards the curtain once more, and then back towards Shiro's rapidly reddening face. "And on that note, please tell him to appoint a successor if he's going to be staying in Shirogane much longer. His estate is falling into disrepair."

"Yes, I'll tell him." Shiro smiled more genuinely and bowed slightly in respect. "Thank you for coming, Princess."

"Of course. Congratulations, Shiro."

They exchanged nods, and Princess Allura continued down the hallway seemingly without a care in the world. It didn't surprise Shiro in the least to see that she was headed towards the armory and the training fields beyond; he wouldn't be surprised if he was short a few guardsmen by the end of the day because Allura had swayed them to swear loyalty to Altea instead. It was enough to make him laugh quietly, and he glanced again at the letter in his hand. 

He heard the curtain shift behind him, and Shiro looked at Keith out of the corner of his eyes.

"I can't believe you left me to handle that on my own."

"I can't believe you tried to _bribe_ Princess Allura into telling you who I was."

Keith sounded more delighted than Shiro had ever heard him, and despite his embarrassment, Shiro smiled stupidly. Anything that made Keith sound that happy was welcome in his castle—in _their_ castle.

"I was curious about you from the start." Shiro shrugged and shoved the letter into his vest with plans to store it somewhere, because he was sentimental at heart. "Don't you have a fitting to go to?" 

Keith's gaze went from amused to lustful in an instant, since his goal was apparently to keep Shiro from getting any work done at all, ever again.

"Sure. Want to come with me?"

"I can't. I have to find my new bodyguard. And you have a meeting with the council after your fitting."

Keith made a disgusted face at that, and Shiro couldn't stop himself from laughing. The sound echoed down the empty hallway, and Shiro felt lighter than he had in years.

It was, if possible, even better than the kissing.

***

The marriage of the King and Wed-King of Shirogane was an elaborate, longwinded affair, and it stretched from the morning into well into the early evening. The main event was attended by nearly two hundred guests, former challengers and royalty alike, and the accompanying dinner was a full nine-course meal with delicacies imported from countries well beyond their borders. It was as close to perfect as a wedding could be, but despite this, Shiro could only focus on two things: the way Keith smiled when he'd said the traditional vows with conviction, his hand wrapped in Shiro's, and the weight of the crown that was placed on Shiro's head at the end of the evening. As impossible as it was to believe after months of preparation, it was over; Shiro was married, and he was the king of Shirogane.

He didn't think it was possible to be as happy as he was in that moment, and he kept that feeling in his chest as long as he dared. When he circled the room to greet the guests and accept his congratulations, he never once dropped Keith's hand, and he didn't let Keith drift instinctively to stand behind him. They were in this together, equal in all matters of country and trade, and Shiro wanted that to be as plain as the crown on Keith's head.

It surprised him, then, to find that when the dinner was over and it was time for bed, Keith was nowhere to be seen.

Shiro's first instinct was to worry, but he was still too happy for that. Instead, he rolled his eyes.

"Not _again_ ," Shiro said to himself, exasperated. Between the Red Knight continually melting into the shadows and Keith's own vanishing act, he had had his fill of mysterious disappearances. Still, he continued the night as if he was not bothered at all; when his valet came into his chamber later that night to help him with his clothes, Shiro pretended he didn't see the reproachful look he shot the empty chamber. 

Even hours later, Keith was still nowhere to be seen, and Shiro's second instinct (to worry some more) was rapidly becoming a concern.

"Sir," his valet said quietly, hands hovering over the strap at Shiro's shoulder. His metal arm; Shiro had almost forgotten. "Perhaps Wed-King Keith would like to help you with this."

Shiro appreciated his optimism. 

"Perhaps so." Feeling at odds, Shiro continued, "He should be along soon."

"Very well, sir," his valet said, and he dutifully left the strap alone.

Neither of them said anything more about the circumstances as his valet finished helping him with his nightshirt, months of practice making the task go quickly. He bowed deeply and respectfully when he left, and Shiro's sigh was heard by no one but himself.

Although it felt like the worst way to spend a wedding night, Shiro grabbed a book at random and settled back against his pillows, determined to do anything but simply sit and wait in the low light of the fireplace. Another hour, he decided. Another hour, and he'd see about hunting Keith down; perhaps there'd simply been a misunderstanding. Or, more likely, perhaps Keith just wasn't ready. Kissing, no matter how passionate, didn't necessarily mean someone was ready for a wedding night. He should've asked Keith before dinner if he wanted to wait, and now he sat there with his book, mentally kicking himself and not managing to read a word.

Half an hour later, there was a knock on his chamber door, and Shiro stood quickly, nearly dropping his book to the floor in his haste.

"Enter."

The door opened a sliver, and Keith slipped inside. Once past the threshold, he shut the door with his shoulder and locked it swiftly, but he didn't move immediately, nor did he release his tense grip on the handle. He'd changed back into a plain tunic and breeches, accounting for some of the time lost since Shiro had last seen him, but he looked no less handsome than he had at their wedding, even if his expression was clouded with uncertainty.

Neither of them said a word for a long moment.

"You didn't have to knock," Shiro finally said with a relieved smile. Honestly, he was just happy Keith had shown up. "This is the royal chamber, and that means it's yours too."

"I didn't want to assume," Keith said, his gaze landing on Shiro briefly before flicking away again. "I thought you might be tired, and I could just as easily sleep somewhere else. My, uh, room in the guard house is still there."

Shiro rose one eyebrow.

"You thought I was too tired for our wedding night?" he asked, voice filled with amusement. Keith had apparently been just as concerned for _Shiro's_ well-being as Shiro had been for his, although he'd apparently taken it to the extreme by actually _hiding_ from him.

"I didn't want to assume," Keith repeated, and then he looked at him, his gaze dark in the dim light. It was impossible to mistake the hunger on his face, or the way his eyes zeroed in on Shiro's mouth when he licked his dry lips. He seemed attuned to his every movement, and it was both nerve-wracking and addicting to be the focus of such intensity. 

"Have you always looked at me like this?" Shiro asked softly, not really expecting an answer.

"Sometimes." Keith took a shuddery breath. "It's hard not to, especially in the morning."

"The morning?" He thought of all the times Keith had come into his bedroom for something urgent, or woke him from sleep and helped him dress when his valet was running late. At the time, Shiro had taken the easy help as proof of his disinterest; now, it made him flush. "Oh."

"Yes. And after I spent all night dreaming of you."

"For someone who doesn't know how to flirt—" Shiro said, his throat dry. "—you're doing very well."

Keith looked baffled by the compliment.

"I'm just being honest."

"Of course." It amused Shiro enough that some of his doubts disappeared, and he sat back down on the bed. He set his book on the nightstand and patted the comforter beside him invitingly, leaving the decision to step forward in Keith's hands. "Come sit beside me and tell me what you dream about, Keith." 

He might have cheated a little, pitching his voice purposefully low and seductive, but it was effective; Keith pushed away from the door and made it to the bed in record speed, sitting close enough that his warm thigh touched Shiro's fingers.

"They always start the same way," Keith confided, as though it was the most treacherous of secrets. "Kissing you."

"Like this?" Shiro offered, and he leaned slowly forward to kiss Keith gently. It was similar to the kiss they'd shared in the stables weeks ago, brief and loaded with intent, but unlike that time, it was Shiro who pulled away. He wanted to see the way Keith's eyes darkened up close, without the cover of shadows or nighttime, and he wasn't disappointed.

"No," Keith said, voice thick. "Like this."

He pulled Shiro's head back down and kissed him like he was starving. It was neither gentle nor hesitant, and Shiro came to the startling but pleasant realization that Keith had been _holding back all week._ The decision had been a good one; if Keith had kissed him like this in the hallway, it would've been _Shiro_ dragging him off to the nearest private corner.

As it was, when Keith pulled back, his chest heaving, Shiro nearly begged him to come back.

"And then what?" Shiro sounded breathless even to his own ears, and the responding smirk on Keith's face showed confidence. Shiro preferred it over hesitance.

"Being allowed to touch you." His gaze moved slowly down Shiro's body as though he was stripping him bare right at that moment; Shiro's thick nightshirt suddenly felt impossibly thin. "Anyway I want."

Shiro nodded eagerly.

"You can."

"Even here?" Keith's hand reached out slowly and landed—of all places—over the cloth-covered point where Shiro's metal arm met flesh. "Or here?" His hand moved, this time landing firmly over Shiro's soft cock. Even through the fabric of his nightshirt, Shiro could feel the heat of his palm, and it was enough to make him swallow, feeling almost dizzy with want.

Keith, however, shot him an uncertain look, and Shiro knew why. It took only a glance to confirm that Keith was hard and straining against his breeches just from their kissing, while Shiro must have seemed unaffected. It was far from the truth, but his worry was understandable.

"Sometimes it...takes a while, these days." Shiro shrugged with purposeful nonchalance, unintentionally drawing attention to his metal arm again. He saw when Keith made the connection between his soft cock and the reminder of his time spent in captivity, and he knew it needed no further explanation. "But…keep going. Please."

Keith pulled his hands back, but not before taking Shiro's flesh hand in his own. The tender gesture was appreciated, especially when he pulled Shiro's hand forward to rest on Keith's stomach.

"You wanting to touch me back. That's my favorite part."

"I do want to. Always." Shiro might have been slow to rise, but he didn't hesitate to move his hand down Keith's stomach and to the line of his hard cock, feeling the shape and weight of him. Shiro could feel his flesh twitching even through the breeches he still wore, and he lifted his hand just enough to slide it under the waist of Keith's clothes. His fingers were just long enough to reach the slick, soft tip of his cock before he was forced to stop, his hand pinned and unable to move further.

"Can you remove these?" Shiro wiggled his fingers pointedly, trapped as they were between warm fabric and warmer skin, but although Keith shuddered, he didn't immediately go for the ties on his breeches.

"Yours first," Keith said, and his hands went to the hem of Shiro's nightshirt. His knuckles brushed Shiro's bare legs as he skimmed the cotton upwards, and Shiro reluctantly pulled his hand back from touching Keith in order to pull his arm from his sleeve. Keith was gentle with his other arm when he pulled the fabric off, shifting the metal as though it weighed nothing when the shirt caught on the crafted fingers. 

Once he was finished, Keith tossed the offending garment out of sight, leaving Shiro naked in the dim light. Shiro hoped the light wasn't enough to see the scars that marred his skin, but when Keith dipped his head down, his lips landed squarely on a jagged line across Shiro's collarbone. The kiss was tender and warm even against the desensitized skin, and it nearly brought tears to his eyes when Keith moved his kiss, undeterred, to another scar right below it.

"If you try to kiss every scar I have," Shiro said, struggling to keep his voice even, "we'll be here all night."

"I could think of worse fates," Keith said, but he raised his head all the same. His hands left Shiro's waist, but rather than go to his own clothes, he lifted them to the strap at Shiro's shoulder.

Shiro almost jerked away when Keith's hands began working on the buckle, clearly intending to remove his metal arm.

"I can keep it on. If you want." 

Keith looked at him from under his lashes, his eyes close and dark. His fingers were still.

"You won't be able to sleep with it on, right?"

Shiro reluctantly shook his head, and Keith resumed his work on the buckle, When the tongue of the strap slid free, he gently removed Shiro's metal arm, pausing only briefly before he set it aside on the nightstand.

"Is this one steel?"

It was. It was also significantly less decorated than his other, with no jewels or trim to speak of. His valet had been very confused when Shiro had chosen this plain version for his wedding day, but Shiro had insisted.

"A certain someone recommended it."

Keith gave him a long and steady look, and then one of his hands came up to touch the space between Shiro's neck and shoulder, where the strap had left its imprint. The casual, easy touch made Shiro tremble.

"Heavier, right?" Keith rubbed his thumb back and forth as though trying to erase the redness of the mark. "Does it bother you?"

 _Not_ , Shiro thought wildly, _as much as this does._ He could barely think, and then Keith's other hand came up to rest on his half-arm, fingers moving gently over the indent from where the metal had been wrapped around scar tissue. No matter how much it was padded, the shell still rubbed his skin, and Shiro was used to dealing with the residual pain when it came off. He was not used to someone touching his raw skin gently while he sat there, engrossed in the motions of their fingertips. Keith's skin looked smooth in contrast to the ugly mass of scars under his hand, even though Shiro could still feel the calluses on his fingers.

"It's fine." Shiro swallowed roughly. "Does it bother you?" The question was quiet, breathed into still air. Shiro didn't know what he'd do if Keith said it did.

"Shiro." Keith looked at him, and then glanced pointedly at where his cock was still straining within the confines of his breeches. "Whatever your body looks like, it's more than enough for me."

Shiro laughed softly. Whether Keith knew it or not, that was the perfect thing to say.

"I wish I could say the same, but it's hard to be sure." The look he gave Keith was playfully stern. "I've never actually seen you naked."

Keith grinned and pulled his hand back.

"That's easy to fix."

Keith stood and made quick work of his own clothes, seemingly with no interest in teasing or showing off. Shiro looked his fill anyway, pleased by the way Keith's lean muscles moved in even this mundane task. Keith was thin but strong, and when he pushed his breeches down past his hips, he revealed a stiff cock that looked almost too long for his body. 

Shiro ached with want; while he'd always known that Keith was beautiful, the reality of him naked in their bedroom was enough to make Shiro's cock twitch with interest for the first time that night.

It wasn't until Keith came closer that Shiro saw the jagged scar across his stomach, thick and raised, like he'd been gutted by a blade at some point.

Shiro touched it curiously, and Keith trapped his hand under his own. From this close, Shiro could feel him breathing, could feel his muscles twitch. Nerves. Despite everything, he was nervous.

"I told you I had scars," Keith said stiffly, referring to that first ball and his conversation with the Red Knight.

"You did." Shiro could see other, smaller scars too, the cost of a life spent training for fighting. He wondered how many had come from Keith's quest to find him, and Shiro smiled up at him almost bashfully.

Keith's breath caught in his throat, and his hand spasmed over Shiro's while he met his gaze. Without looking away, he raised his other hand to fist his own cock, the motions fast and jerky and close enough that Shiro could feel the air move against his arm. When Keith closed his eyes briefly, Shiro glanced down, eager to see the sight of Keith touching himself and thinking of Shiro as he did. 

Unfortunately, although he usually wanted nothing more than to hold Keith's hand, watching him rapidly turned into exquisite torture, especially when every time he looked back up, Keith's eyes were on him.

"Let me," Shiro said, voice thick. "You wanted me to touch you, didn't you?"

Keith nodded and slowly released his cock, letting the hard flesh spring back against his stomach. He released Shiro's hand next, but not before dipping his head to press a kiss to his knuckles.

Shiro didn't waste any time in wrapping his fingers around Keith's velvet soft flesh, gripping him tight with a confidence gained from past lovers. Because it was Keith, though, Shiro went slower than he usually would have and slower than Keith himself, moving his hand up until his palm slid over his cock's head and then rubbing there gently. When he felt a gratifying wetness under his thumb, he slid his hand back down and repeated the motion, milking him with each upwards pull.

All the while, Keith shuddered against him, his thighs visibly twitching when he shifted to stand between Shiro's bent knees. When he dropped his hands to Shiro's shoulders, his grip was just tight enough that Shiro didn't lose his balance when Keith suddenly rocked forward impatiently, chasing the sensation of Shiro's loose fist around his cock.

Shiro didn't try to stop him, fascinated by the frenzied, uncoordinated motions of Keith's hips. He tried to pull him closer between his spread legs, and his effort was rewarded by a new angle. Every time Keith pushed through his fist, the tip of his cock rubbed against Shiro's abdomen, finding friction there and leaving a slick trail behind. Shiro could feel himself getting just as excited as Keith from the motions, and he tried to encourage him, suddenly eager for just this, only this.

"I don't mind if you come on me," Shiro said. "I'd like to do that for you." He twisted his hand, moving the tighter part of his grip closer to the head of Keith's cock. "I'd like to feel it, all over me." 

Keith moaned, the sound ripped from his throat as he thrust forward one last time, the tip of his cock twitching against Shiro's skin as he came in thick spurts. It slid down Shiro's skin to pool in his bellybutton, and Shiro shuddered, feeling claimed and satisfied while he coaxed Keith through the last of his orgasm. It didn't even matter that Shiro was now hard himself; he would already give anything to touch Keith again, to see the bliss on his face.

Keith, once he'd regained his breath, pulled back, and his eyes studied the mess he'd made on Shiro with something approaching visible pride.

Shiro snorted and touched the sticky fluid with his fingertips, then brought the shiny mess to his lips. Keith zeroed in on the action with dark eyes, before he inexplicably glanced towards Shiro's cock, now hard and pointed toward the ceiling.

"It's fine," Shiro said honestly, not in any particular hurry for his own release when the chance of Keith getting hard again was high. 

To his surprise, Keith shook his head.

"No, it's really not," Keith said, sounding almost angry. Before Shiro could say anything, Keith knelt on the ground and took the tip of Shiro's cock into his mouth. He sucked hard, causing Shiro to jerk his hips up instinctively, but rather than pull back, Keith just swallowed the additional inches down. He even spread his hands against Shiro's thighs and pushed them further apart in order to get closer, seemingly unconcerned with taking Shiro's entire length down his throat.

" _Keith_. I—oh, Keith!" Shiro closed his eyes and let the sensations wash over him. It had been so long since anyone had touched him, and nearly as long since he'd touched himself. There'd been no point when his body failed to respond. 

He was responding now. He didn't know if he should thank Keith's surprising skill for that, however, or if it was just over-due; regardless, he came embarrassingly fast, from mere minutes of suction and strong hands flexing against his thighs. If it wasn't for the sounds Keith made—like tasting Shiro against his tongue and swallowing his seed was a treat and a privilege—Shiro was sure he would've been blushing. He nearly was, even now.

When Keith lifted his head with his lips shining and soft, however, Shiro promptly gave up on all pretense of shame. Instead, he curled his fingers in Keith's hair, looking at him with affection and contentment.

"Thank you," Shiro said, and he was nearly undone when Keith licked his lips.

"I lied," Keith said. "This is my favorite part: you, looking at me like this."

"I knew it." At Keith's confused look, Shiro elaborated. "I knew the Red Knight was a romantic."

Keith groaned and thumped his head against Shiro's thigh, and the reaction was so dramatic that it took Shiro a moment to realize Keith was laughing.

Shiro joined him, and together their sounds filled the room with happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me at [my tumblr](http://starticker.tumblr.com/) if you want. All Voltron all the time, which is just the way it should be. ;)


End file.
